


Let It Be Known

by stubbornessissues



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, Falling In Love, Gunshot Wounds, Hacker Gavin Free, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, Meg-Centric, Mild Blood, Multi, Prompt Fill, They're not really in it, turnfreewood, turnwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 17:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10036016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stubbornessissues/pseuds/stubbornessissues
Summary: If Meg is a star, Gavin is a supernova and Ryan is some poor soul caught between them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a first attempt at some turnfreewood, because someone so sweetly asked on tumblr, and it got out of hand. 
> 
> I have no excuses for this.

**0.**

let it be known that those Meg Turney loves are magnificent creatures. **  
**

Extravagant souls that are brilliant all on their own; and to have her heart makes them all the more grand.

**1.**

Meg to a rare few and Dollface to the masses is a charming enigma; a girl with the sweetest face and brightest hair also a notorious killer who flounces around in cute skirts and teases the enforcers of law with mocking selfies.

She is captivating and hard to find.

So her curiosity is in fact nudged into play when she receives a large sum, and in the payment notes is “Left you a breadcrumb, try to find me.”

**2.**

It takes her a long time to trace the money back to the notorious Fakes, the only committers of crime she’s ever considered on her level.

The hacker was brilliant and mocking in the doors he courteously left open for her to follow him. Left her to clean up the mess to cover both their asses.

It’s cheeky enough to make her reach out to them.

And they surprise her with an immediate response.

“Choose a place and we’re there.”

The whole thing feels very impersonal. This is nothing but a business call- just the way she likes it.

**3.**

Nothing in the world could have prepared her to meet with the Vagabond and Ramsey’s wild card.

He- the boy decked out in gold and a debonair attitude, playing at being a man- is the one she’s been trading curt messages with.

He is the one that’s been mocking her.

It’s the Vagabond that takes her hand and pulls out her chair for her in a bumbling manner that has Dollface raising her brows. She considers it an act, wonders what he’s to gain from this meeting

They’re at a corner table for four in the best restaurant Los Santos has to offer- which is admittedly very little- and somehow the empty seat beside her feels like another taunt; it’s clear why Gavin, the Golden Boy, smooth talker and hacker extraordinaire is close to Ramsey. He’s got her pegged without ever being in the same room, and now that they’re across from eachother she can practically feel him peeling back the layers.

**4.**

Meg only ever cares for the aesthetics and appearance of things, after all that’s all she ever was to them.

**5.**

Gavin, she finds quickly, is one of the rare souls that seems genuinely disinterested in her; he bears no resentment or ill feelings to her- Ramsey himself corroborates that inkling- but he carries no warmth for her either and Meg hates it because somehow, somehow his twitchy smiles and smug grins and too large nose have pervaded her thoughts.

She finds herself giggling at his actions like some besotted schoolgirl with her first crush and she’s never hated anything more.

He turns her to putty without even trying.

**6.**

Ryan, she observes long after her team up with the Fakes has devolved into a casual partnership, is much the same with Gavin- as are many others in the crew- unable to ever deny his requests and so eager to please and impress him

She hates that he’s hardly even aware he’s doing it.

**7.**

If Meg is a star, Gavin is a supernova and Ryan is some poor soul caught between them.

**8.**

Except that’s too cliche and destructive.

Meg is some breathtaking sunset with the warm pinks and golds streaking the sky and Gavin is the undulating Northern Lights- the aurora borealis if you care about your poetry.

And Ryan, _poor Ryan_ is left just trying to keep up.

Ryan who in his own right is something beautifully horrific to behold; Ryan who has the general public whispering horror stories about him and warning their kids like he’s some urban legend, is the darkness they need to shine through.

Sure in the day the sun is bright and warm, but when the night starts creeping in and the darkness brings out hues you can’t be sure you’ve ever seen anywhere else, well, it’s really something else.

And a sunset is only fleeting.

The Northern Lights, they’s still impressive enough in the day, but they’re truly magnificent, they truly shine when night falls.

**9.**

So Meg and Gavin, they clash; they fail to exist in tandem.

Dollface falls out of love with the Golden boy and he’s left none the wiser about where her affections lay.

Dollface falls in love with the Vagabond.

She still giggles when Gavin tells his wild stories or brims with glee when they approach a biker in the car because he’s rubbed off on her. But she giggles because she’s happy with where they are, not because she wants to impress him.

And together, the three of them are an insurmountable force of nature.

**10.**

Touch one and there’s hell to pay.

They still work for the Fakes, but their trio hasn’t gone unnoticed by the media, by the other gangs that are out there.

It’s known that Dollface and the Vagabond have an endless supply of horrors to unleash upon the world and with their boy backing them, they can know anything in the world- makes their torture sessions real interesting.

So the world knows they have a hacker at their backs.

The world knows their weakness, and it’s only a matter of time until they’re apart- it’s only a matter of time until they receive a delivery of shattered gold shades and they’re left lost.

Between them, they know enough, they’ve learned enough from Gavin to track his phone’s unique signal to the docks and they fly before the Fakes can even know a thing is wrong- after all, the shades were left for them; it’s not about Geoff this time (but that must be a nice bonus)- they hurtle across the city, the world a blur of honking cars and asphalt until they slow towards the docks.

**11.**

Touch two and you would call death a blessing.

Touch all three and you’re a god.

**12.**

A car comes out of nowhere, slams into the bike, there’s sickening crunching sounds and chaos and pain. Meg can’t make sense of anything, can’t even get her breaths in right can only focus on the fire in her bones and the panic clawing it’s way through every nerve in her body.

_Ryan._

Gavin.

It’s a trap. She makes sense of that somewhere. She understands on some indecipherable level that someone’s playing at being a god. Someone has blindsided the three most notorious criminals on the west coast.

A shout is all she needs to make sense of the world again.

_Get up._

_Get up, Turney._

There’s Gavin in the distance, struggling ferociously to get to them, and it’s truly a sight to behold, tearing against the ropes at his wrists and legs kicking for them to let go. This gang plans for them to suffer if they had brought him along to watch.

She would be impressed if a hand didn’t curl into her hair at that moment and wrench her to her feet with a pained cry. Every fibre of her body protests the situation and she feels a pistol against the underside of her chin, hot, just fired and if she could she would look back to Gavin because she knows she and Ryan weren’t the reason for the shot.

There’s pride mixed with fear mixed with _fucking shit we’re about to die._

She hears Ryan giving them trouble, and, for a moment, envies his shorter hair; she knows Gavin’s giving them a good fight and it’s all she needs to get over just how much the hair pulling hurts and throw her weight around, take them both tumbling to the floor.

**13.**

They lose the fight.

**14.**

She wakes in an inordinate amount of pain with dried blood flaking free the second she moves.

_“Meg?”_

She hears her name, thinks it’s time to properly wake up but everything hurts and she just wants to sleep.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” That’s Gavin that growls, alerting her to another presence in the room moving about, unlike her, unable to make her limbs respond at all.

“Only because you asked so nicely, _Free_.”  that voice mocks, ridicules the very essence of his name and she knows she needs to just open her fucking eyes.  “Come on Haywood, wakey-wakey.” The sound of a three sharp slaps is enough, and she finds them all in a dim room, in a tidy circle of three, strapped down to metal chairs.

She meets Gavin’s eyes across from her, sees him shake his head. _Keep your eyes closed._ She’s too slow and out of it to understand why he would want that, but she trusts Gavin enough, _knows_ him enough to believe he must have a plan.

 _And what the fuck?_ It dawns on her a moment too late that he’s been using their surnames, _their real names._

“What the fuck?” Ryan sounds too soft and lost, somewhere to her right and she aches to fix this- to go back in time and just stop and make a plan, or warn the crew- but she can’t do a damn thing.

“Meg? Wake up”    _Don’t wake up, Meg._

“So nice of you to join us Vagabond, it was getting rather _boring_ with just me and Mr. Free here.”

“Mr. Free and I.”

“What?” There’s a small pause, in which she hears Ryan shrug and Gavin choke back a laugh and it’s a struggle for Meg to keep her own lips from twitching.

“Proper grammar is important.”

**15.**

She falls in love with Gavin all over again.

Meg listens to him talk circles around their torturer, keep him from his actual task long enough for her to notice through her lashes that there’s a shard of glass near her left foot, and she’s got just enough mind to hide it away beneath her toes.

**16.**

It’s twenty minutes before the guy remembers that he’s supposed to be making them suffer, and not bickering about probability with two of his captives and leaves to cool off and find his tools.

Her head snaps up the instant the door is shut, toes already curling around the shard, heedless of any injury, because she knows of the things that will come if she doesn’t do this.

“You two still can’t let the fucking coin go?”

Gavin’s uncaring as she twists her leg as high as it can go and gets the shard gripped between her fingers- thanking the heavens that she’s been doing yoga lately- and starts sawing at the leather with a ferocity.

“I’m not letting it go because he’s fucking wrong.”

“That guy didn’t seem to think so.”

“Because he’s an idiot and we just managed to completely confuse him.” They’re still going at it, bringing in quantum laws and it’s enough to drive Meg into further anger. She’s determined to get out of those cuffs just so she can strangle the two of them.

And later Meg will appreciate that they made her work harder like that. It’s probably what saves them.

She saws through the strap, wrenching herself free with a great tug that snaps the leather and immediately drops the shard, fumbling, bloody fingers undoing the other one right as the door opens.

**17.**

They don’t lose this time.

**18.**

They may not lose, but they certainly don’t win.

The room is small, and the guy has a gun that comes out, that fires, that Meg tries to knock away.

This embeds a bullet in the Golden Boy’s gut.

She has enough sense to kick the shard of glass to Ryan before charging the guy, slamming him into a wall and she can hear Gavin gasping, choking on his own blood as she jerks her knee up hard, twists her finger into his jacket.

Gavin wheezes as she hammers the guys head against the wall, once twice, third time’s the charm. He turns into a dead weight and she moves, let’s him crumple and she’s already in front of Gavin with shaking hands undoing his restraints.

Ryan’s with her a second later, wrenching his shirt off and bundling it to stop the flow of bleeding and she’s panicking because she knows there’s more of the gang on their way to investigate the shot.

Gavin’s head slumps, Meg looks to Ryan. “There’s more out there.” She hardly dares whisper it. “One of us is going to have to stay with him while the other fights.”

**19.**

Ryan’s hands are warm and steady, they sit on top of hers and grant Meg with a clearer head.

“I’ll be back, you try to wake him up, and lock yourselves in.”

He kisses the top of her head before leaving.

**20.**

Seconds stretch to minutes.

    1.    2.    5.    10.  

_Is Ryan coming back?_

Focus on Gavin. Focus on keeping him alive.

Don’t let the guilt eat you up, Meg.

Forget that you knocked the knocked the gun that way.

_Keep him alive._

“Hey, asshole, come on." A hand pats at his cheek. Nothing.

She needs to get him flat, she thinks, at least, if he’s on his back, maybe the blood flow won’t have gravity working alongside it. But she can’t be sure. She doesn’t know a damn thing.

“Gavin come on.”

**21.**

Ryan comes back and she’s still not got Gavin awake.

She’s checked his pulse and felt it, weaker every time, but still there, still just barely holding on.

“They’re all dead, the crew is on their way.” Somewhere out there, Ryan found a machete and their phones.

“Oh thank god.”  Meg exhales.

Jack will know what to do, Jack will fix him.

**22.**

“You know, the stomach is supposedly the worst place to get shot. It’s where all your organs are…”

Meg doesn’t say anything, just lets Ryan wrap his arms around her shoulders and draw her in. Everything is still tender.

“It hurts like hell, but it’s survivable, and if anyone’s going to live through it…”

“Gavin will.” She finishes against the leather of his jacket.

**23.**

And Ryan is right.

Gavin’s light is not so easily diminished.

Meg’s guilt is much the same.

No matter who tells her it wasn’t her fault, no matter how many times they say it, she refuses it because it cannot be the truth. Not when there’s very real proof in the way Gavin winces when he so much as rises to his feet, or simpers, now more than ever for Ryan to bring him tea.

The real proof is that Ryan does it.

Gavin may have bent people to his whims before, but it was always in a different way, he twisted them into wanting to do it, but now…

Now they feel sorry for him and like they _have_ to do it.

**24.**

“I never said thanks for getting us out of there… Or y’know, apologised for getting us into it in the first place.”

They’re lounging on the sofa, all three of them, tangled limbs and warm blankets and the Titanic playing before them.

And Meg knows he means her because Ryan has fallen asleep beneath them, and Gavin’s trailing lines across Meg’s stomach with his soft, warm fingers. (She tries to ignore the tightness she feels when he skims by where she knows his scars to be.)

“You did a lot of it too.” She deflects, refusing to take her eyes off the screen where Jack and Rose are fucking in a steamy car. “Kept the guy talking, kept him from noticing me with the glass… it was all your idea.”

“Didn’t exactly plan on getting shot. That was a bit of a surprise….. But I don’t blame you, you’ve got to know that by now.”

She bites her lip, but doesn’t speak.

“Better my guts than your head. He would have tortured us anyway if you’d gone and got yourself shot dead.”

And somehow, somehow, that’s all she needs. The logical, rational part of it that no one deemed it a good idea to give her, some how. The _it could have been worse if you didn’t._

**25.**

She falls for Gavin Free again.

But something’s different this time.

This time, he falls for her too.

And on the way, he falls for Ryan Haywood too, just like she did.


End file.
